


It's Been A While

by anotherwinchesterfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherwinchesterfangirl/pseuds/anotherwinchesterfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader met Dean Winchester a while back when he was just passing through, and he lets her know whenever he's in town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Been A While

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing smut, and I have no idea how I did with it. I'm kind of in love with the idea of Sam and Dean revisiting girls they've been with previously whenever they are back in town, so that's kind of where this comes from. This is loosely based on Style by Taylor Swift.

You were getting ready for bed when your phone buzzed.

_Hey, sweetheart. Are you free tonight?_

Your pulse sped up slightly, as it usually did when you got a text like this.

 _Why? Are you in town?_ you responded.

_I could be there in 10._

You looked at the clock; it was almost midnight. And you had work in the morning. But that had never stopped you before.

_OK._

You finished brushing your teeth and checked your makeup in the mirror, glad that you hadn’t already washed your face. You went to your closet to change out of your pajamas and throw on a sundress. Back at the mirror, you pulled your hair out of its ponytail and shook it out. At the last minute, you grabbed a red lipstick and swiped some onto your lips. Not bad for 10 minutes, you thought as you grabbed your keys and your phone.

You popped your head into your roommate’s bedroom.

“Hey, I’m going out.”

She looked up from her computer, mild surprise crossing her face when she noticed the white sundress and the red lipstick.

“Now?”

“Yes.” You couldn’t help but smile. She rolled her eyes.

“Dean?”

“Yeah,” you said, giddily. Dean always had this effect on you.

“Y/N, you promised you wouldn’t. Every time you do this, it just makes you all mopey after he’s gone.” You ignored her.

“I’m going!” you called out as you left her doorway. “Don’t wait up!”

You sat on the stoop outside your apartment building to wait in the sticky summer air, thinking vaguely about what your roommate had said. You’d first met Dean a few years ago when he came into the diner where you worked, all smoldering glances and charming raised eyebrows. He’d sat at the counter and chatted with you until your shift was over, trying literally every type of pie that the diner had and drinking numerous cups of coffee. After the diner closed, the rest of the night had been a whirlwind. Then he’d left town with your number in his pocket, and whenever he was in the area he let you know. You had no idea what he did in between the times you saw him or what even brought him to town in the first place, and you didn’t normally do this—one night stands with men you barely knew—but Dean was...different. And not just because it was the best sex you ever had. He made you feel wanted and needed—like you were his escape. And yes, you were always sad when he left, but it was worth it.

You heard the rumble of the impala before you saw it, but when it slowly rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of the building, your heart began to pound. It took some serious self control not to race up to the car and immediately throw yourself into Dean. You took your time walking up, knowing that his eyes were probably on you, wanting to give him a good minute to look. You swung your hips a little more than was strictly necessary and bent down a little further than you normally would have to open the passenger side door. It had the desired effect; you barely had a chance to slide into the car and shut the door before his mouth was covering yours, his hand pressing your right hip into the seat. You gasped, surprised, and you felt him smile against your lips, even as he pushed his tongue against yours. A warm tingling sensation spread over you, heat coiling like a snake in your belly and between your legs. His hand slid up your side, his thumb just grazing your breast. The fabric of both your dress and your bra was thin, and your breath caught in your throat as a small jolt of pleasure ran through you.

“Hey, gorgeous. It’s been a while,” he said, pulling away but still keeping his face close to yours. His green eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

“Hey,” you said breathlessly.

“How you been?”

“Alright,” you shrugged lightly. Neither of you ever really shared personal details while you were together. As he settled back into the driver’s seat and shifted the car into drive, you noticed that his knuckles were bruised and there was a sizeable scrape across his cheekbone.

“Rough day?” you asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he said. “Wanna get a drink? Or just drive?”

“Just drive.” you said. You reached your hand out the open window and let the wind rush over it. Something about being with Dean made you feel like someone else. Completely free—no responsibilities, no worries, just him and his car and his smile.

Dean drove, heading out into the country under the starless sky. He could barely keep his eyes on the road, and every time you caught him looking at you, a wave of heat washed over you. You could practically feel the tension and desire coming off of him in waves, like a tangible thing in the car with you, and _damn_ just the thought of it was such a turn-on.

He reached out and set a warm hand on your knee, dragging it slowly up your thigh, pushing your dress up with it. He let his fingers rest on your inner thigh, just next to where you were aching to be touched, let his pinky finger lightly drag across the thin cotton of your panties. You squeezed your eyes shut and pushed your head back into the head rest, your hips pushing forward involuntarily, longing for friction. When you opened your eyes, Dean was looking at you. He licked his lips slowly, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth before flashing a mischievous smirk and then looking back at the road.

Two could play this game. You leaned forward, pushing Dean’s hand back down your leg, and reached across to Dean’s lap. You weren’t a tease; you palmed him immediately, loving the feeling of his hard-on growing in his jeans. He groaned softly, and, encouraged, you closed the distance between you, planting your lips on his ear, tugging on his earlobe lightly with your teeth.

“Keep your eyes on the road, baby,” you whispered, your lips hot on his ear.

Slowly, you undid the button and zipper of his jeans and slid your hand into his pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hands gripping the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white. Under your lips, you could feel his jaw tensing. You pushed his boxer briefs and jeans down, and then you quickly ducked your head and took him into your mouth. A low groan rumbled in his chest, and you felt his leg twitch down, his foot pushing hard on the gas, the engine revving. He gripped your hair with one hand as you bobbed up and down, stroking his shaft with your fingers at the same time.

Then, suddenly, Dean pushed the brakes and spun the wheel to the right. You continued what you were doing while the car came to a stop, until he threw it into park and pulled your head up to his and crushed his lips against yours. You briefly noticed that Dean had pulled the car off the road and onto a little dirt path between a corn field and a bank of trees, but you didn’t have time to think about where you had ended up. Dean was gripping your waist, trying to pull you onto his lap, while his other hand pushed the strap of your dress off your shoulder and down your arm and took your breast in his hand, running his thumb over your hardening nipple. Jolts of pleasure hummed through your body as you climbed on top of him, straddling his lap and grinding into him, pushing your hands through his hair. You were desperate to feel him against you.

Dean pushed your panties to the side and slid two fingers into you in one swift motion, causing your breath to catch in your throat, and you moaned into Dean’s mouth. He broke away from your lips, trailing kisses across your jaw until he got to your ear.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, his hot breath making you shiver. Another moan escaped your lips and you ground down into his hand, his palm creating the perfect amount of friction against your clit.

“Oh god, Dean,” you murmured. You found his lips again and leaned into him, open-mouthed and wanting. Jesus you’d missed him. You ran your hands up his muscled back, under his shirt; you wanted to feel his body pressed up against yours and there was too much fabric in the way.

You pulled back, looking into his eyes, bringing your palms to his cheeks and pecking him quickly on the lips before you climbed off his lap and crawled into the back seat. He was right behind you; you could feel his fingers brushing your waist and your hips as you maneuvered yourself over the back of the seat. You landed on the backseat with a giggle, and when you looked at Dean he was smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He shrugged off his jacket and flannel, leaving him looking like a messy-haired James Dean in his white t-shirt. You reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it and your bra off at the same time and tossing them back up to the front seat. Dean reached for you, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and yanking it down. You reached for his belt buckle, and in just a few moments all of Dean’s clothes were on the front seat also. You arched your back under him, pressing your body up against his, running your hands along the muscles of his back and shoulders. His hands were all over you at once, tracing all your curves and edges, painting fire across your skin, his cock brushing against the aching heat settling between your legs.

“Dean,” you breathed.

Slowly, he hooked his arms under your thighs and drew your legs up so that your knees were bent over his shoulders. He reached over into the front seat and pulled a condom out from somewhere, tearing the wrapper with his teeth and sliding it onto his length. Then he swiftly pushed into you, causing a sound to escape your lips that was a cross between a gasp and a shout. You threw your head back against the seat; Dean buried his face in your hair as he began to thrust in and out of you, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed, his breathing becoming harsh and fast. With one hand bracing himself on the window, he squeezed your breast with the other, skimming your nipple with his thumb. His pelvic bone brushed your clit with each thrust. You moaned and pressed up into him, coiled tight and feeling so close to the edge, and you could tell by his breathing that he was too.

And then before you could even control it, your orgasm erupted, washing over you in hot waves. Gasping and shuddering, you squeezed around Dean and ran your fingernails lightly down his back until a moment later, he came, gripping your side, his groan muffled in your hair.

 

* * *

 

It broke your heart a little when you lightly pressed your lips against his before you climbed out of the impala, back in front of your apartment building.

“Call me next time you’re in town?” you asked, keeping it light despite the ache in your chest.

“You know it, babe.”

 

 


End file.
